


The Last Exorcist

by campy3361



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:58:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14378178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campy3361/pseuds/campy3361
Summary: When a psyche patient’s case takes a deadly turn, Olivia Blake learns that she’s part of a world she thought only existed in the movies.Author’s note: Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I’ve been working on this idea for awhile and it’s my first fiction. Please forgive the Latin, I had to go off Google, so if anyone knows of a good English to latin translator they could recommend I’d appreciate it. Comments and critiques are hugely welcome, I’m hoping to publish this one day and want to get it right. I’ll post every Monday and Friday. Thank you for reading.





	The Last Exorcist

Silas hated the city. The noise, the crowds, the traffic, everything about being in the city made him feel confined. He must have bumped  
a hundred shoulders on the quarter mile walk to the coffee shop from the train station. A hundred muttered apologies in exchange for a hundred scathing looks. He never wanted to be in the city, but knowing that this was his last assignment would get him through the next few hours. One more assignment and he'll be home. No middle of the night calls, no sudden trips across the world.  
Nothing but the monotony of a normal life he hadn’t experienced since he was young. 

He and Kate never used to argue, but so much time away for so many years had strained their marriage. Being gone for days, sometimes even months at a time, left only Kate to handle the responsibilities of day to day life. She understood what was required of Silas in what he did, she knew it when she married him, but being the spouse of an exorcist didn’t come without its challenges and most exorcists didn’t have committed relationships because of it. Then there was Olivia. As rare as marriage was for an exorcist, having children was even more uncommon and while she wasn’t planned, she was the  
greatest gift he had ever received. He had missed so much of Olivia's life. Every return home brought a milestone made without him.

First steps, first word, first day of school. He was running out of firsts and he couldn't miss anymore. The paperwork had been filed, what little there was, and he's officially retired. Some would say fifty-one was too early to retire, but not in his profession. Years spent fighting the darkest parts of the spiritual world wore on not only the body and mind, but the soul itself. The demons may be gone, but the trail of despair they leave behind remained. Silas remembered the faces of every victim. The ones who made it and those who didn't; those faces stayed with him the most. 

He always saw the moment of clarity right before their hearts stopped; when the demon was gone and there was nothing left but the final breaths of a broken and exhausted body. For the first time during those assignments he saw the person he was trying to save, but as quickly as the light returned to their eyes, it would diminish leaving nothing but an empty shell. The deafening silence that followed was always broken by the wails of their grieving loved ones. Their voices echoed through his mind serving as a constant reminder of those he failed. 

He had been doing this for more than thirty years and was still amazed that he hadn't been driven to insanity; something he wouldn't doubt was attributed to his wife and daughter. Some exorcists aren't always as lucky, either crumbling under the weight of guilt and responsibility or killed during a ritual. Pulling his attention away from the unpleasant thoughts, he set down the coffee he was nursing and glanced at his watch. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through  
his contacts.

“Three minutes late and the phone's out. That has to be a record for you.”  
Silas smirked when he recognized the voice and stood to embrace his friend. “Hey man, thanks for coming. Are you sure Nora doesn't mind  
you coming out?"

Even though he was two years retired, Jacopo was adamant  
about going with Silas for his last assignment. “Sentimental reasons,” he called it, but Silas still thought it was boredom.

Jacopo shook his head as they sat. “No, but she did tell us both to be careful. You know how she worries.”

Silas nodded. “Same with Kate.”

“Well after this, we could all relax a bit. You guys should come out and visit.”

“I’m definitely going to talk to Kate about that after I surprise them. It’s been a while and you haven’t seen Livi since her christening.”

“I can’t believe she’s already four. You always hear about kids growing up fast, but it’s still incredible how true that is.”

Silas smiled thinking of his daughter. “Don’t I know it.”

After checking his watch, he pulled out his wallet to pay the bill. “The  
train’s leaving in half an hour, we should get going if we’re going to catch it. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

As they walked to the train station, Jacopo turned to Silas with a smirk. “So, how do you think Kate’s going to take you being unemployed?”

After two hours, they finally made it. Getting the rental car took longer than they planned, but thanks to Jacopo, Silas got a discount after  
they lost his reservation. 

“You sure this is the place?" Jacopo asked, getting out of the car.

Slinging the strap of the black backpack over his shoulder,  
Silas looked around the dark property. "It’s the address he gave me and it looks like no one's here. The family’s staying in a hotel for the night.”

While the guild normally sends novices to do house clearings, Silas was grateful that his last assignment was not only an hour away from home, but a simple haunting; something he could do with his eyes  
closed.

Jacopo scratched his graying beard. “Good. I don't want to be shot walking through the wrong front door.”

The men walked up the concrete sidewalk leading to the  
front door. Stepping onto the dark wood porch, Silas briefly searched around before his eyes settled on the metal table under the window. With one hand, he picked up the gray watering can that sat on the table and retrieved the house key hidden underneath. Inserting the key into its lock, he opened the door. 

The house was dark and quiet, the only light provided was the moon shining through the windows. While Jacopo moved about the house turning on lights and opening blinds, Silas rummaged through his pack, laying out candles, matches, and bundles of sage. As he was zipping the bag closed, another item caught his eye; a long black leather-covered wooden box tucked away in the bottom. Pulling out the box, he ran his thumbs over the edges. Throughout the last three decades, he never had to use it. When it was given to him, he was told of the power that it held, but that power came with heavy price so he always understood to only use as a last. 

“Windows and lights are set. There's a basement so we should probably start up here and work our way down," Jacopo said, his voice floating down the hall before he appeared from around the corner.

Like nothing had changed, Jacopo was taking charge and Silas  
smirked as he put the box away, deciding that a mildly disturbed spirit didn’t warrant the relic. 

“That's a good idea. They said the basement was the most active part of the house anyway, so we'll get the easy stuff out of the way first. I have everything ready to go here.” 

Striking a match on the box, he lit the two white candles on the table. Each man picked up a candle in one hand, smudge stick in the other and simultaneously lit the sage. Without speaking, they separated. Each  
smudging every inch of every room of the floor. The house started to develop a slight chill from the spring night and open windows, so Silas turned the heat on as he passed the thermostat in the hall. 

Weaving from corner to corner and room to room, he muttered a short mantra, "Let this house be cleansed of negative energy. Replace it with tranquility and balance. With these herbs, the space is cleared."

It was a simple chant, but the message was clear. He  
learned that long chants were unnecessary and a waste of valuable focus. Repeating the phrase and slowly walking, Silas maneuvered his way out the bedroom and into the hallway. Seeing Jacopo almost finished with the last room on the upper floor, Silas smudged the bathroom before extinguishing the smoking bundle in the sink. After double checking that all the windows were secured again, he made his way to the basement door. Jacopo waited for him, burning smudge stick  
still in hand. 

“Alright, last room and we'll be done," Silas said.

“Thank God for that. I'm ready for a beer.”

“What, getting tired?” Silas asked, teasingly.

Jacopo gave him a hard glare. “I'm not that much older than you, you know? And no, the energy in here is just odd.”

Part of an exorcist’s training was to develop a sixth sense. Silas remembered the hours of meditation and prayer he needed to become that  
sensitive, almost connected to the spiritual world by an invisible rope. Silas experienced the same odd changes of energy as Jacopo during his cleansing. A spirit gave out enough energy that it could be detected by even basic investigative  
equipment, but this entity was disappearing and reappearing when the sage should be forcing it out of the open window. The spirit didn't appear malevolent, but it was still something Silas hadn’t experienced before in the few hauntings he’s cleared.

“Well whatever it is, it's about to be out of here in a few minutes anyway." Jacopo gestured his free hand towards the basement door. "Would you like to do the honors?"

Silas nodded before opening the door with a loud creak to reveal a dark set of stairs.

Jacopo reached over  
and flipped the light switch on and off a couple of times without success. “Of course.”

Silas reached into the inner chest pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small but strong maglight and illuminated the stairs. Taking a  
couple steps down to look around with the light first, he turned back to  
Jacopo. "I lead, you clear?”

Jacopo nodded as he continued his original prayer, slowly making his way down the dark staircase and wafting the smoke as he went. Feeling his way to the bottom of the stairs, Silas shined the light towards his friend until he made his way to the bottom as well. With both feet on flat ground, Jacopo continued around the room, meticulously cleansing each corner  
before suddenly pausing. 

“What is it?" Silas asked.

“Come look at this.”

Following the order, Silas walked to the back corner of the basement. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he was a couple of feet away  
and the hair on his neck stood up. The significant temperature drop became more noticeable the closer he walked until he stood next to the other man, clouds of breath now billowing out of both of their mouths. 

“Looks like we found it," Jacopo quietly stated, staring at the closed closet door in front of them.

No sooner had the sentence left his mouth than a loud bang came from the door causing both men to jump, not expecting the battering ram-like noise in the once quiet basement.   
“Or it found us," Silas commented, before being interrupted by another collision into the door.

Believing their presence may have caused the entity to become more active, Silas cursed himself for leaving the relic upstairs.

“I need to go get my bag.” He briefly glanced at Jacopo as the banging continued. "Are you good?"

Jacopo nodded. "Make it quick."

Silas handed the flashlight to Jacopo and, without another word, bounded back up the stairs. Running down the hall and turning into the kitchen, he made his way to the dining table where the backpack still sat. As he grabbed it, a loud crash echoed from the basement followed immediately by a second.

“Jac!" 

Sprinting down the hall, his boots slapped against the hardwood with each step before coming to a stop in the doorway of the now silent basement. He called for his friend a second time as he tried to see into  
the darkness and hearing nothing, pulled out his phone to turn on the  
flashlight. Mindful of where he placed his feet, he crept slowly down the  
steps. Pausing on the second to last step, the mag light he left with Jacopo came into view. Seeing the object abandoned and still on, Silas descended the last two steps and made his way towards it. Setting his bag on the floor, he picked up the torch and shined it around the basement.

“Jac? Where are you?" he called again. 

His eyes darted around in the darkness as he muttered a  
chant and guided the flashlight around the basement. The light then settled on the closet door, which was no longer closed. Taking in a deep breath and settling himself, he slowly crept closer to the closet. The silence was unsettling as he closed in on the door in front of him. His heart began to do something it hadn't done in years on an assignment, it raced. His own heart beat loudly in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his body preparing for whatever came next. He paused two feet away from the door, raising his light slowly from the floor towards the open entrance. As the light ascended higher, he saw the cracks in the wood from whatever had forced its way through and he  
steeled himself when the floor inside came into view. Still seeing and hearing nothing, Silas' focus stayed locked on the darkness, waiting and watching.  
Holding his breath after reaching a decision, the flashlight flew from its  
position towards the ground to directly at Silas' eye level, illuminating the entirety of the room in a flash.

“Nothing. The room was empty save for a few cans of paint  
and a hammer on the shelf. Silas' heart rate slowed and he scoffed at himself for his relief. The relief was then replaced immediately with fear as to where Jacopo was. Preparing to call his name again, Silas was interrupted by a low deep groan behind him. Flipping the light one hundred and eight degrees, it  
landed on a pile of boxes shoved in the back corner of the other side of the basement. Silas barely caught a glimpse of a boot-clad foot dangling over the overturned cardboard boxes. 

“Jac?!" Silas yelled, starting towards the collapsed man.

Before he could take a third step, he froze. A tingling sensation went from the soles of his feet to the top of his head as if small pulses of electricity were flowing through his body. Every muscle locked into place and refused to move as a persistent buzzing overwhelmed his hearing. Trying  
to force his body to cooperate and move forward, beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Confused, he attempted to yell out, but found that even his vocal chords stayed in their stiff position. A wet, cold sensation and the smell of copper interrupted his thoughts and panic finally set in as he realized what was happening. He silently spoke every mantra he could think of in his mind until movement caught his eye and he saw the dangling boots begin to move and drag themselves off the boxes. Realizing that Jacopo was regaining  
consciousness, Silas desperately tried to warn him of what was happening; that this wasn't just the hijinks of a restless entity, but an attack. 

Rolling over onto his stomach and using his hands to push  
himself up, Jacopo let out another groan as he slowly and painfully got to his feet. "God I'm too old for this.” Brushing the dust from his clothes, he looked up and his  
eyes fell on Silas who stood a few feet in front of him. "Silas?"

Silas was then thrown backwards, hitting the hard floor, before his limp body slid into the closet with tremendous speed. The door slammed shut and it was over faster than Jacopo could process the scene in front of him. Going as fast as his throttled body could manage, he tried jerking the door open again with no success. Chills ran up Jacopo's spine as the brief silence was then filled with muffled, agonizing wails.

“Silas?! Silas, open the door!" he yelled, jerking the knob and slamming his fists on the cracked door. Not receiving an answer, he started reaching into each of his pockets. “I'm coming. I'm coming," he shakily muttered as he continued his search. "Just hold on.” 

After what felt like an eternity, his fingers finally grazed the rosary beads in his jacket pocket. 

Taking the metal cross in his palm and carefully wrapping the beads around his hand, he placed it against the door and began to recite the familiar words. “In nomine Christi spiritus immunda projiciam vos a facie mea. Et faciam in te amplius quicquam amaritudinis in huiusmodi corpora imaginem eius." 

Jacopo poured as much strength as he could into the Latin words. Too many times he has had to use the same prayer, but he never thought he would have to repeat them; let alone to the inhuman screams of his best friend. Jacopo's arm began to quiver against the door and he panted from the effort as the malevolent energy fought against the powerful chant. 

“Faciam hoc et mundatus est non."  
He paused when the door under his palm jumped again and the screams went suddenly silent. 

Cross still firmly pressed against the door he called out to Silas. Fearing the worst, he slowly slid his hand away from the wood and reached down to the door knob with the opposite hand. The knob turning in his hand, he raised the rosary in front of him and braced himself. He couldn't feel the presence anymore, but he couldn't be caught off guard again. The door creaked open revealing the dark room.

“Silas?" 

Before he could react, Silas practically flew through the door, wrapping his hands around Jacopo's throat as he went and causing the two men to fall from the speed. Silas straddled Jacopo's chest, increasing the pressure around his throat. Face turning a dark shade of red, the older man clawed at the hands cutting off his oxygen and scratched and slapped at whatever he could reach. 

His red and bulging eyes stared at the blank face above him as his life slowly drained away. Jacopo could only manage a gurgling sound when pain ignited from his throat as his windpipe collapsed from the strain. Ignoring the scratching at his hands and arms, Silas lifted Jacopo's upper body and in one swift movement, slammed him back into the concrete floor. 

Blood poured out of the back of the man's head as it repeatedly collided against the hard surface. The pain stopped after the second impact and Jacopo’s eyes went blank after the fifth. Fingers uncurling from its iron grip, Silas’ arms limply fell to his sides. 

The same blank face stared down at the dead man below him before turning towards the backpack that still lay a few feet away. Pushing himself up and out of the building red pool spreading across the floor, he walked over to the pack. Picking it up from the ground and opening it, his free hand pulled out the slender box from inside. Leaving the backpack behind, his heavy footsteps echoed as he made his way up the stairs. At the top, he took one more glance at the lifeless body before turning away and shutting the door behind him.


End file.
